Switchers - Part I

Damascus

I was just about ready when the comlinks turned on. I passively looked at the screens, recognizing my new apprentice. This was a first, this kid was
on time!

“This is Vancouver, Sir. Reporting for duty, Sir.”

“Come in.” The prompt automatically released the lock and the door slid. The kid was excited to go on his first mission. Just a quick glance at
him told me that he was prepared, eager and ready to go.

“We’re launching in twenty clicks, Sir.”

I nodded as I finished replenishing the water in my suit compartment and looked at him once more, remembering how it was when I started, the
adventure, the adrenaline. After all that time that had passed, it had become more of a routine than anything else.

I friendlily tapped him on the shoulder.

“Let’s go then. And stop calling me sir, my name is Seattle.”

“Yes Si...I mean Seattle.”

As we walked to the assigned docking point, I tried remembering what year this was; 2562...not sure. The corridor we were in had transparent metal so
we could see the vastness of space, the Earth below and what was left of the moon. I was born on Damascus but went to Earth on numerous times, for
different missions and I always was curious about the stories of our past.

In the year 2184, an asteroid which was detected in 1999 and appropriately named 1999 RQ
36 had fully impacted our moon, destroying almost half of it. In the early twenty first century, researchers from that era had done research for
decades on that peculiar asteroid, as the chances of hitting Earth were greater and greater as it approached. In the early twenty second century, they
had sent manned missions to alter its course. And alter it, they did. On July 4th, 2184, this asteroid would change the course of history forever.

The effects of the moon being partially destroyed affected the rotation of the Earth, which started to spin faster. The climate became extremely
violent, almost rendering Earth uninhabitable. There is still United Nations cells here and there on the planet, buried deep underground but the
surface has become an absolute waste. Somehow, some humans from the surface were able to survive and adapt to the weather’s aggressiveness. Some of
them had come to help in finishing the space city of Damascus, a name reminiscent of our ancient past as
it was supposedly an ancient city that held the cradle of civilization. Some others, rebelled and refused to end up in space, claiming that the winds
would eventually calm down and that nature would return. Stupid dreams, if you ask me. They believed that humans were meant for Earth, no matter the
conditions and that to escape into space was not only cowardice but treason to mankind. Strange ideology, again, if you ask me.

All of us, born on Damascus were given city names, in remembrance of our once great human civilization. Depending on our aptitudes, the Damascus
Council assigned us to different tasks. My task, as would soon be my apprentice’s, was to find portal zones and report them.

During the course of centuries, humans on the surface were able to prove that what we see, what we hear, everything that our senses pick up, is in
fact one percent of what exists. That was a no brainer, really, we always knew that ninety nine percent of the occupied space was empty.

But they proved us wrong. They proved the Mutiverse, showing our Council that ninety nine percent of the space was not, as originally thought, empty
but filled with other dimensions. Over the centuries, they were able to learn to go in and out of dimensions back and forth through portals that they
invented, leading them to unknown areas of that ninety nine percent. As our Council had researched into this new information and had found it unsafe
or dangerous even, a team was put in place. We were called Surfacers. We land, we detect portals and we seal them off. I have been doing this, with
success actually, for a very long time and today, Vancouver would be initiated.

We reached the docking point and New York was there to greet us. This was an honor. New York was a veteran, a living legend.

“Gentlemen, a new portal might have been detected in New Orleans. Your job is to locate it, report it and seal it. Any questions?” As his question
was met with silence, he continued.

“I also wish to welcome our newest elites on the team, Glasbury, Melbourne and Vancouver. Make us proud, gentlemen!”

Vancouver and I were the ones to locate the portal. Denver, Glasbury, Teheran and Melbourne were the ones to seal it. The trip from Damascus to the
surface was as boring as it gets. It gave me time to explain the procedures of locating portals and Vancouver was all ears. It’s always the same
way, anyway. We find a survivor that looks suspicious, we trail him and he figures it out, then panics and leads us right to the portal where he
escapes. We pick up the coordinates, report them and the second team comes around to finish the job while we walk back to the transport.

New Orleans

Vancouver and I exited the transport and started walking towards the coordinates provided by the Council. I could tell that my apprentice was nervous,
after all, this was his first time on the planet.

“All seems so...quiet...” he said, trying to convince himself more than anything, I suppose.

“Yeah..hmm.. just keep your eyes open. Or if it’s the climate that brought us that deep comment of yours, remember that you wouldn’t want to be
here, comes winter time.”

We both cut the conversation short as we spotted someone. The survivor was about fifty feet from us, on a corner of what used to be a crossroad. He
was standing still and he seemed to be waiting.

“Stay about ten feet behind me and cover my back. As I walk towards him, he’ll panic. They all do.”

Vancouver nodded and I started walking. The survivor must have been blind, he didn’t move. As I got closer, he willfully turned to me but did not
run. That was unexpected. I’ve been doing this for half of my life and this never happened. I stopped, starting to think that this was darn strange.
I turned to Vancouver and noticed that he had taken an orb out of his vest and was ready to strike.

“No. That guy needs to move, not be injured. That’s how we find portals” I insisted and Vancouver unhappily brought his arm down at waist
level.

I started walking again towards the survivor and stopped when arriving at about an arm’s length. He was wearing a cloak like they all do but for the
first time since I’ve been doing this job, not only didn’t he run but he took the cloak partially off his face. I was stunned.

“I was waiting for you Seattle. My name is Elizabeth. This is a first contact.” She said as I stayed there, frozen, not knowing what to think,
what to do. I always thought that the survivors were mutant looking but she was unbelievably beautiful.

“We’ll talk again.” She said as Vancouver started running towards us. I turned around to see that he had the orb floating over his hand.

“Noooooo...” I yelled as I once again turned around, just to see that ‘Elizabeth’ had moved about a foot and was vibrating out of this
dimension.

The orb flew right by me but missed the target. ‘Elizabeth’ was already gone.

“What the hell happened? What the hell was that???” Vancouver asked, out of breath.

On the flight back to Damascus, I tried to rationalize what had happened. Vancouver was furious that I let the switcher get away but I had my reasons.
Or did I? I couldn’t help but think just how attractive she was and that changed a few notions that I held for truths.

Switchers, apparently were not mutants, disfigured and horrible looking as I was taught to believe. The fact that she wasn’t afraid of us and that
she made the first move was a shock. It seems like all that I have experienced as a Surfacer was to be re-evaluated by such a brief moment in time.

I had trouble to sleep that night. Her image kept coming back, her words “We’ll talk again” were haunting me. I was having morning coffee when
the comlinks turned on, it was New York’s secretary and this was the very first time since I knew her that I didn’t see her smile. I switched it
on.

“Seattle, New York would like to have a word with you.”

“Fine, I’ll shower and be there in a few...”

“No, he would like to have a word with you now...”

“On my way.”

I put my uniform on in a rush while thinking that this wasn’t good. The urgency meant that something was afoot. I had to think of good reasons for
letting the switcher evade as that was most probably what the urgency was all about. When I reached his office and opened the door, I saw Vancouver
coming towards the door to come out, so that was it, Vancouver made a mountain out of the event.

“Seattle” he said as I went in and he went out. I just looked at him but didn’t reply, closing the door behind him and walking towards New
York’s desk.

“Have a seat, son.” He said while walking back to his desk as his secretary made an entrance to bring us coffee. I just sat down and waited. He
was signing logs and it kinda pee’d me off that I was rushed down to watch him work...

“Sir?” I inquired.

“Seattle, your tag tells me that you deliberately let the switcher get away, is that true?”

From his tone, I had better choose my words wisely or New York would ground me, of that I was now absolutely sure.

“From Vancouver’s point of view, I would think so, Sir.”

“And what is your point of view?”

“It was a female switcher and she made first contact. She knew my name and said that we’d talk again, so from my point of view and with all due
respect, this is an opportunity to find out way more about them that we were led to believe for eons, Sir.”

I was very bold and very direct as if he didn’t take this seriously, if he didn’t buy it, I was done.

He put his logs down and stared at me, silently, trying to read into me. I held the stare back. He leaned back in his chair took a sip of coffee, not
letting his focus go. He finally dropped the stare as he put his coffee back on his desk.

“I’ve known you since you were a kid, Seattle, and I trust your instincts. So I might be putting my career and reputation on the line for this but
I am upgrading you to the rank of High Surfacer. From now on, all teams on the ground must report to you. I recommend you start working on a strategy
for your next encounter with the switcher. Any questions?”

High Surfacer. This gave me “carte blanche” and I had better make smart moves.

“No Sir. Thank you Sir.”

As he went back to viewing his logs, I got up and started walking towards the door when he interrupted me...

“Seattle...enough with the Sir garbage, call me New York.”

“Very well.” Was the only answer I could think of but he continued.

“Oh, and please explain to your tag that if he’s gonna snitch on his superior officer, he better have good arguments.”

“Will do.” I answered as I made my way out of his office.

I went back to my quarters and smiled as I poured myself another coffee. This would be a good day after all !

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